


Like a democratic drawbridge

by Nary



Category: Rome
Genre: Class Issues, F/M, Face Slapping, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-30
Updated: 2010-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:26:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Titus Pullo had never been in such a rich woman's bedroom before, at least not without being afraid of getting caught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a democratic drawbridge

Titus Pullo had never been in such a rich woman's bedroom before, at least not without being afraid of getting caught. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd been summoned here for punishment, and had to force himself not to shuffle his feet like a guilty boy, but instead to meet the eyes of the matron who stood at the foot of the opulent bed.

"You've been spending a great deal of time with my son of late," Atia of the Julii said without preamble.

"He's a good lad."

"And you're a bad influence." It didn't sound like an accusation, coming from those perfectly-painted lips.

Pullo could only shrug. "I just do as I'm told," he said calmly.

"Oh? Then fuck me." She was bold as brass, this one, eyeing him up and down as if he was a horse at market.

"I don't think..."

"No, you _don't_ think. You're an idiot, it's not your place to think, it's your place to do as you're told. So fuck me."

"I can see why your son hates you. You're a bully."

He fully expected the slap before it struck, could have stopped it if he'd wanted to, but he let her get away with it. It still stung. He gripped her by the arms, hard, and forced her back onto the bed. Her knee was between his thighs, which made him tense his muscles, wary, but she wasn't out to geld him, just to push up his tunic. Finding him stiff, she laughed low in that pretty throat, and for a moment he wanted to choke her, but instead he found himself ripping her flimsy gown off her shoulders, baring her to the waist.

Atia twisted beneath him, as eager as any wench he'd ever tumbled, and more than some. The fact that he was doing precisely what she'd ordered him to do didn't matter any longer – a man's pride didn't count for much when he'd a woman on her back, pressing her hips up against his and arching so her tits were only inches from his face, all the while clawing at his arms and hissing for him to hurry up already. Pullo had never valued his own pride too highly in any case, and it seemed Atia didn't either, at least not right now. He shoved her legs open with one rough hand and guided himself in.

Atia had been married twice, had borne children now old enough to be wed themselves; she wasn't a blushing girl – maybe even a shade overripe. He didn't care in the slightest. She was wet for him, gasping with each thrust, pulling him deep into her and telling him to go harder still. There was something oddly satisfying about it, knowing that he was about to spill his seed where senators and consuls had done before him. No doubt plenty of plebs and slaves as well. What did the Greeks call it? Democracy, he had time to think before he came with a groan and a final thrust, two, then still.

She pushed him off her almost immediately and smoothed her skirt, beckoned for her maid (had the woman been standing there the entire time?) to come and refasten the pins that held her gown together at the arms. As she patted stray locks of hair back into place, she didn't so much as look at him. Pullo cleared his throat, and she glanced his way as if mildly surprised he was still there. "Yes, well, take good care of Octavian," she said as if nothing had happened. "Try and keep him out of trouble." Only the flush at her throat and the sweat drying between her breasts gave any hint of what had just passed between them. Pullo could only agree that he would do so, wonder if he'd missed something, and leave.


End file.
